


Treaties

by Fabrisse



Category: Hellspark - Janet Kagan
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 15:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17124023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: Tocohl returns to Flashfever after several years.





	Treaties

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greerwatson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greerwatson/gifts).



Margaret Lord Lynn found a safe berth over the skies of Flashfever. The planet held a special resonance for her as it was here, not two standard years earlier, she was first admitted to the club of sapient beings. It was still a closed decision, but she could admit that it was a huge step for not just herself, but all extrapolative computers.

Geremy’s Garbo took her place in orbit at a trojan point. Geremy was going to leave for a new trade route within a week, so Om im would be joining Tocohl on her next judgement. If they continued to get along well, and Maggy had no reason to think they wouldn’t, then Om im might be joining them on board for longer service, both as Tocohl’s blade and as her assistant. Maggy was already trying to figure out how to configure the guest areas comfortably for a Bluesippan.

Tocohl and two of her extensions -- an arachnid, similar to the one she’d used the last time but with an extra strong casing to protect against electrocution, and a new design she wanted to try in real world conditions -- were already on the ground. Buntec was taking them back to the base.

***  
“Old Rattlebrain” had left with most of the ByWorld judges. He was the best for an exploration team, but with Flashfever now being a protected planet, his talents were best used elsewhere. swift-Kalat had been put in charge of the negotiating team and Buntec, Edge-of-Dark, Om im, and John the Smith had all elected to stay. _Layli-layli_ had remained a further three months working with a new glossi who specialized in medical terms and settling the newest medical officer into position before returning to Y and formally mourning.

Even Buntec’s description of all the changes hadn’t prepared Tocohl for the differences. The base no longer had fencing around it. The central meeting space had been expanded and turned into a mixture of park and vegetable garden. There were new huts in a section that Buntec called the glossi ghetto and several others -- those belonging to Timosie, _layli-layli_ , Van Zoveel, and others -- had either been dismantled or reconfigured into spaces for smaller groups to meet as the cultural exchanges, trade agreements, and bio-engineering agreements were all being negotiated at the same time as the treaty.

The biggest change was the number and variety of _sprookjes_ walking around the compound. 

Tocohl checked her second skin for the stripe pattern she needed to communicate and subvocalized, “Maggy, still with me in the suit?”

She heard a little tsk. “Of course, I am. I note that three handhelds are checked out, too.”

“I’m giving one to Buntec right now.”

“How you doin’, kid?” Buntec’s enthusiasm came through loud and clear. “I know you’re going to need the little guy and the arachnid to explore, but your mama thought Edge-of-Dark and I could share one of your handhelds to keep you out of trouble.”

“ **Out** of trouble,” Maggy asked through the handheld. “Mama didn’t raise a barefoot fool.”

Buntec laughed. “Good to have you back, kid.” She hugged Tocohl and said, “You, Bayd, and Maggy are having dinner with us tonight.”

“Can’t wait. Om im…”

“Girl’s night tonight. I promise we won’t leave him out again. Well, not for awhile.”

“That’s fine. I’ll see you this evening.” Sub-vocally she added, “Maggy are our gifts for everyone in the hand luggage or are they part of the drone landing this evening.”

“Most are part of the drone landing, but the flagon of Otranto wine and the assortment of seeds and pots from our travels are in the hand luggage.”

“Thank you for thinking it through, Maggy.” She gave a little cry when she saw two sprookjes gesture to her and her mother turned around. All of them, sprookjes, her mother, the arachnid, and Tocohl jerked their thumbs up. 

The next hour was taken up with greetings, hugs, and new vocabulary. In some ways, Tocohl felt like she was home.

***  
Om im joined her at the table for breakfast. He flipped his butterknife and presented it to her, and she touched the hilt, once again accepting him as her blade. “Sorry I didn’t see you when you arrived, Ish Shan, but I was taking a turn in the lightning rods communicating about cultural exchanges.”

“I had dinner with Buntec and Edge-of-Dark.” She gestured to her breakfast which consisted of hangover cures from three different worlds. “The food was delicious and beautiful, but between the wine I brought and some of the dips, I’m not certain whether I’m seeing lightning or its just the hangover.”

He chuckled. “I remember the first time I dined on food Edge-of-Dark prepared. It was aesthetically lovely and tasted exquisite, but it was three days before I could figure out which end of my blade was the sharp one.”

“Do you think they’re likely to be a long-term partnership?”

“By my blade, Ish Shan, it’s impossible to know, but I think they have a good chance. At least as good as Tinling Alfvaen and swift-Kalat. Have you seen them since the wedding?”

“Not yet. I am due to present myself formally in an hour.”

“Which is why you need not to be hungover?”

Tocohl smiled. “I can think of no world where landing flat on one’s face as she bows is considered good manners for an Ambassador.”

“Is that your title this time?”

“Apparently, I need to be an Ambassador Plenipotentiary as well as a Byworld Judge for treaty signings. I was lucky they chose me since I’m so new as a judge.”

Om im gave her a pointed look. “They would have made you queen, if necessary. You saved an entire species from exploitation and potential annihilation. I wouldn’t be surprised if they made you president of the planetary federation.”

“I’m a trader. Keeping me in a boardroom will never work.” She took another sip of Bitter Root Tisane and had a spoon of honey immediately after. “Have you thought about my offer? Because Maggy has already started configuring a suite for you.”

“My luggage is already packed. I thought we’d be sharing with Bayd, but your mother says she’s staying.”

“So she said. I can think of no one better to complete the Sprookje to Standard (and other languages) videos. Did you know there are already arguments over why there isn’t a static or printed copy on several of the more luddite worlds?”

“I am too old and cynical, Ish Shan, to be surprised by what people will argue about.” He sighed. “You should go to your quarters and make yourself presentable. The ceremony might be brief and informal, but it starts in twenty minutes.”

Maggy said, “A Methven ritual for peace might do more than the ritual for calm you did when you first woke up.”

“Maggy suggested a Methven ritual. Come get me in fifteen?”

“Of course, Ish Shan.”

***  
Much of the week had been taken up with duties, reading over the agreements and treaties, hearing small fights, in depth discussions with the crested sprookjes about how the treaties would be implemented.

Now, the final ceremony would take place. Buntec was signing the agricultural agreement and John the Smith the engineering agreement. Edge-of-Dark signed the cultural/educational agreements and Om im the trading one. As each sprookje came up to sign the side of the agreement they’d negotiated, Tocohl presented him or her with a moss cloak. 

(While she’d been learning her trade as Byworld judge, she’d let several mostly agricultural planets know that Flashfever might soon be an excellent trading partner. She’d also told fellow Hellsparks about the love of moss cloaks. There were now at least seven different types of cloak, instead of just the single type available before her first visit. The four who signed the agreements got that type of cloak. The two who signed the treaties beside swift-Kalat and would get a red moss cloak each. And her nibs, the great crested sprookje who would give the final imprimatur along with Tocohl for the final version, would get one of the new millefiore ones, unique to this world once Tocohl left.)

The final videos of the signatures had been collected as well as multiple styles of hard copy, Geremy collected them and had Garbo send down a skiff. They’d be leaving as soon as the party was over. 

Maggy whispered in Tocohl’s ear as soon as the final moss cloak had been presented, “Does this mean we get vacation now?”

“Yes, Maggy.”

“Good. I’m going to ask Bayd to help my new extension negotiate trades for lightning rods.”

“That’s your vacation?”

Maggy said, quite primly, “I’m a Hellspark.”


End file.
